


Sugar Sweet

by kwlosko



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: AND THAT THIS WILL NOT BE YOUR TYPICAL SUGAR DADDY FIC, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, M/M, OKAY WAIT LET ME JUST SAY, THAT THIS IS VERY SUBVERSIVE, also tags will be updated as needed, oh yes and the rating will go up later too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 20:11:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17925536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwlosko/pseuds/kwlosko
Summary: Xu Minghao is a broke college student who likes to think that he's a "realist". Therefore, when he gets desperate and signs up for a dating site aimed at sugar daddies and sugar babies, he thinks that he knows exactly what he's getting into. He's done the research, he knows the horror stories, and he knows what he should truly expect.He's wrong.





	Sugar Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> hey what's up i hate 90% of sugar daddy fics and can feel my best friend cringing violently every single time that i say the word daddy
> 
> BUT a friend and i came up with this idea a couple of years ago and i'm,,,, finally trying to make it A Thing yay???
> 
> anyway yes if you don't like typical sugar daddy fics This Is For You also pls feed me with reviews thx k bye

_ Do you want to be a benefactor or a beneficiary? _

 

Oh, what a lovely first question this profile had.  _ Are you a sugar daddy or a sugar baby? _

Xu Minghao looked at the half-full container of ramen placed precariously close to his mouse, at the worn, scratched wood beneath it. He scoffed, as he selected the latter option.

 

_ What is your gender?  _ followed immediately by  _ What is your romantic preference? _

 

He weighed his options seriously. Was he willing to exclude a fair amount of possible candidates in order to make himself more comfortable?

…

After physically grimacing at the idea of a woman so much as coming onto him, he selected the “Men and Other” option, and went through a few more simple, rote questions before coming to

 

_ Tell us about yourself! _

 

Ah. What he had been training, rehearsing, stressing over for the past three days, and still wasn’t entirely satisfied with. He had decided on cute and demure, without being overly so. He wanted to seem innocent - he was good at playing that, at least, and knew plenty of people liked that - but not overly so. He wanted to make himself sound interesting, but not strange, and sweet without looking like a pushover. Mingyu had been absolutely no help whatsoever, choking on his cereal when Minghao had prodded him to help him come up with a dating profile, and so he had been left on his own, glaring at and re and rereading his little paragraph, and still editing it as he entered it into the little blank box.

 

_ I’m from China, so I’m sorry if I make any mistakes! ^.^ I moved here when I was 13, and I like to consider myself just as Korean as I am Chinese. I like dancing, singing, and food. I’m in my second year of college right now, but I’m still trying to figure out what I wanna do with my life. ^^; I’d love to study languages, and I like working with kids, but I think that taking time to figure things out is important! I’m not very experienced with relationships, but what’s really important is that I find someone who’s kind and supportive. I want someone who will take care of me! ^////^ I think that my Korean has gotten a lot better, but I’m sorry again if I messed up! _

 

He didn’t. He had shoved the piece of paper into Mingyu’s face, scribbles and scratches and torn edges and all, until he had actually read it. And, after stunned silence, too much laughter, and the heel of Minghao’s hand violently meeting his temple, he had said that it was fine.

Well, he didn’t make any mistakes if he could actually trust Mingyu’s opinion.

He groaned, letting his forehead thump against the hardwood of his desk, running the words through his head for the fifteenth time. That was what really mattered. That was what would actually make people look at him… or not. How long was he even supposed to give it before he gave up? Or editted his post? Or rethought the specifics of his own sexuality, in the light of money…

“Myunghooooooooooo…”

The moment he heard the nickname, Minghao’s hand went up on instinct, flicking off his roommate. He heard him coming closer even without looking up, his footsteps heavy and awkward as he traipsed across the room, before dropping into a crouch and draping himself over the younger.

“I wanna use the computer,” he whined, somehow managing to get his arms under Minghao’s and his hands all over his chest, before poking him in the cheek.

“Why can’t you use your own?” It was a low grumble, muted only by the unfortunate softness of his voice.

“Wonwoo’s is in the shop so he’s borrowing it.” 

Oh, right, he had mentioned that earlier. At… some point. Minghao had been a bit distracted.

“He said he’d give it back soon but he has a big project an- Whatcha working on?”

A loud groan fell from Minghao’s lips at the prod. “The… dating profile… thing. Since  _ you _ couldn’t help me with it.”

He made an indignant noise, pulling away. “You can’t just ask someone how to approach a sugar daddy out of nowhere!”

He rolled his eyes, making himself sit back up. “Right. Should’ve asked someone who’s actually had  _ dates _ , anyway.”

Another noise, this one more strangled, and yet huffier. “I’ve had plenty of dates! I’ve had like-”

“Dates that have ended  _ well _ .” His cheek thumped into his open palm, his elbow propped too loosely on the table.

Whiny little sputters, now, and Minghao could feel him squatting awkwardly beside him. “I’ve had a bunch of good dates! Why are you so mean to meeeeeee?”

“’Cause you’re dumb.” He reached over, sloppily ruffling Mingyu’s hair and feeling his lips quirk upward when the other didn’t actually pull away. He was cute. An idiot, but he really was cute.

Teasing aside, and genuine frustration aside, Mingyu was… a good roommate. A good friend. And he knew that Minghao thought that about him.

Or, at least, he was pretty sure he did.

“ _ You’re _ dumb,” Mingyu mumbled, reaching up to push Minghao’s hand away, but too lightly to be genuinely trying to dislodge it. “But can I use the computer? Can I? Do you want me to read over your thing?”

His ears perked instantly at the offer, eyes still a touch too glazed as they flew over the paragraph again. “... Yes, please.”

And with that Mingyu crawled even closer into his space, dropping fully onto his knees and shuffling on them until he was in front of the computer and pushing Minghao uncomfortably close to the sharp edge of a table leg.

Minghao grumbled in the back of his throat, pushing against the desk and squirming until he managed to twist out of the squeeze, though his thigh began aching harshly about halfway through. Mingyu didn’t seem to notice, eyes narrowed in concentration as he looked over the paragraph.

“What are you trying to sound like?” There was a genuine twist of confusion in his voice, as he twisted just slightly to look at the boy now behind him. “’Cause this feels like… the opposite of you. This is the anti-Minghao. This is your evil twin.”

He simply rolled his eyes, not daring to acknowledge it any more, lest he encourage him. “I don’t lie anywhere in it.”

“You-” He paused for a moment, surprise registering in his eyes before he turned back around and squinted at the screen again. “You like  _ kids _ ?”

“Oh for fuck’s-” Minghao found himself grasping the arms of the chair until the rough edges of plastic began to bite into his palms, his eyes rolling so hard that his forehead began to ache. “Just let me do it!”

“Nooooooooooo let me help!” Mingyu shouldered him away, when he attempted to squeeze his way close to the desk again. “I’m almost done!”

“You’re almost done ruining my life,” he mumbled under his breath, forcing himself to let go of the plastic before he actually hurt himself.

Mingyu didn’t seem to hear him.

“You use so many emojis!” He sounded an alarming mixture of surprised and absolutely elated. “And they aren’t angry!”

Minghao groaned, slouching in the chair so he could reach his legs out awkwardly far and haphazardly spin himself in place. “But is it  _ good _ …”

“Well, yeah!” It was a surprisingly rapid response, though it was followed by a deep hum. “Well… good how? ’Cause you didn’t tell me what you wanna seem like…”

Trying to put it in words felt… wrong. Weird. Completely embarrassing.

But Mingyu kept going, at least giving him time to think a bit. “You sound like… innocent! Kind of like a little kid? Kind of like Seokmin when he’s had too much sugar… But not too much, uh…”

“Something like that,” Minghao found himself mumbling, trying to supress the soft flush that he felt warming his cheeks. He hadn’t been thinking of it in those respects, not quite.

“But I dunno what you really want!” he prodded, going so far to reach back and poke at him with his elbow, making the heat begin to crawl down Minghao’s neck, the words building up in his throat. “You have to tell me so I can-”

“Like a  _ twink _ , Mingyu.” He glared as he said the words, even if he felt too warm, even if his fingers were twitching. “I wanna sound…” What words even had the right connotation? “I wanna sound  _ innocent _ and nice and like… someone you wanna pamper and spend your money on. There, are you happy?”

Mingyu blinked twice, and, clearly attempting to suppress one of those wide smiles that scrunched up his face and made his eyes disappear, nodded vigorously. “Then I think it’s perfect!”

Minghao bit back a violent comment involving the nunchucks that he had carefully stored in his closet.

Instead, he gave a brief thumbs up, and immediately went about shooing Mingyu out of the space, pushing with his feet more than truly kicking. “Then let me edit it and you can get the computer.”

Mingyu made a face up at him but conceded, shuffling out of the way so that he could squeeze himself back up against the desk and look over the rest of his information again before finally hitting send.

And looking at his profile.

And sighing.

“How long do you think it’ll take someone to reply?” He tried not to think about it too much, tried not to let his eyes dart over the page more than twice, but he couldn’t really help it. “Do you think I used a good picture?”

At that, Mingyu shuffled closer again, still awkwardly positioned on his knees, but he didn’t seem to find it uncomfortable. “Oh it’s from when your hair was brown! I think it’s good. The curls’ll make you seem innocent, too… Oh, and I like your makeup!”

At least he was really thinking it through. Or… that was probably a good thing. Hearing an analysis of everything made Minghao feel more anxious than it should have.

But Mingyu continued, once again, a loud hum leaving his lips. “I dunno how long it’ll take! Maybe a few hours? Just check later tonight. Now can I please use it please please please ple-”

Minghao stood up quickly, quickly enough to send both the chair and Mingyu off-kilter, the boy falling back awkwardly onto his ass and the chair squeakily scraping against the worn carpet as it drifted in the other direction. A tiny spark of amusement alighted in Minghao’s chest, seeing how Mingyu scrambled beneath him. “Ask Wonwoo-hyung when he’ll be done with yours.”

Mingyu made a face at him, before getting to his feet. “I’ll text him. But thank you~” He reached up and ruffled Minghao’s hair, absolutely because he knew just how much the younger  _ hated _ it, lanky fingers going up to bat the other’s away.

“Leave me alone,” he grumbled simply, ducking away and heading towards his room before the other could harass him any further. “And don’t touch my Spotify again!”

“I’ll log out this time, promise!” he heard called from over his shoulder, as he ducked into his room.

He didn’t believe him, but he rolled his eyes and let it go, resigning himself to the thought of a horribly messed up algorithm for the next several weeks. Again.

And so he tried to study. He really did try, opening up his math book and setting up pens and scratch paper and finding problems that would help him prepare for the test that they were supposed to have next week.

He only managed to get two done in an hour, though, because his mind kept wandering back to the post, back to the 2270 won in his bank account, to the hours that he stayed up late rehearsing instead of working, to the fact that he was so unlikely to find a reasonable part time job because he was a foreigner, to the thought of someone grabbing him by the hips and pulling him in close and forcibly pressing their lips together, hard and heated and-

And it was 7 o’clock.

And Minghao should probably get something to eat, because that half cup of shitty ramen had been all that he had eaten for the entire day, because even Mingyu couldn’t do very much with the last dregs of kimchi and rice that were left in their kitchen.

But first…

He got up and peeked into the living room, making sure that Mingyu was, indeed, off the computer and in the kitchen, and scampered over to take the spot at the desk, himself.

It had only been a couple of hours. There was no way that he would have a reply yet, but he had to check, he  _ had _ to, and-

 

_ You have (1) new messages! _

 

And he nearly exited out of the page in his messy haste to click on his inbox, heels digging into the carpet and fingers twitching on his thigh as he waited for it to load.

He hardly processed who had sent it, instantly going to the sentences spilling over the page - much more than the “ _ hey cutie _ ” he had been expecting.

 

_ Hi, Minghao. I hope that this reaches you well. I’m not a native Korean speaker, either, so I’m sorry if I make any mistakes. I saw your profile and I think that you’re incredibly cute. I love languages, as well, and it sounds like we have plenty in common. I live in Seoul, as well, and it seems that we’re only a few kilometers from each other. Would you like to get coffee sometime? _

 

He blinked at the message too many times - making sure he had read it right, that there was actually a very polite, well-formed message composed just for him. Only then did he process the rest of the message, the fact that it was from a  _ Joshua H. _ , whose avatar said… nothing. It was simply a shot of someone wearing a suit, only showing from midneck down to lower chest. There was a swatch of skin, pale and smooth, but that really meant nothing, did it? It looked like something grabbed off of a quick google search. 

Minghao shouldn’t get his hopes up. He sounded like some uptight, business-oriented 50 year old. He was probably married with kids, or something…

But he did find himself wondering where he was from.

He sucked in a deep breath, prepping his fingers over the keyboard and trying to formulate a response in his head before he actually began typing.

 

_ Hi, Joshua-hyung! Is it okay if I call you hyung? :o I’m so happy to see your message! Coffee sounds great! “I live in Seoul” is pretty vague, though. :/ I live in Daehangno! There are a lot of really good coffee shops around here… We can pick one closer to you, if you want! _

 

Minghao checked it thrice, trying to make sure that there weren’t any obvious errors - but maybe if there were little ones, it would make him sound cuter? Especially to someone else who was foreign?

God, he hoped so.

He swallowed hard, hit send, and got up before Mingyu could walk in on him, before he could see how genuinely anxious his expression was.

He steeled it before walking into the kitchen, peeking around Mingyu’s shoulder to see what he had managed to scrounge together and bothering him about what he was doing and how much he was making and his seasoning technique (as if he knew anything about it, compared to Mingyu).

Only after dinner - kimchi pancakes, with enough left over for breakfast, before they really, really needed to go to the store - did he finally manage to sneak back over to the computer, feeling his chest start to tighten as soon as he went to sit down.

Why was he so nervous? This was what he wanted, right? Attention? Money? Well, in this case, attention was required for money, wasn’t it?

And why was he so anxious about telling Mingyu? He’d certainly already bothered him enough…

He fought those thoughts off as he opened his messages, though, seeing another paragraph from Joshua, shorter this time.

 

_ I would love it if you called me that. I’m familiar with Daehangno. I actually went to college at SNU. I still live nearby. There’s a really nice cafe right by the campus. It’s called [REDACTED]. Do you know it? _

 

Oh.

That… was a really good school, wasn’t it?

He shook his head quickly, reminding himself of the tens of thousands of students that attended, and that he had probably graduated  _ years _ ago, and so it wasn’t as impressive as it sounded in his head…

But he still might have felt a tiny bit intimidated.

At least he knew the cafe.

 

_ I do know it! ^^ When do you wanna meet? I have class tomorrow… but maybe Saturday? Are you free? _

 

Minghao didn’t let himself leave the computer, this time - just changed tabs and tried to focus on his instagram feed until he heard a quiet ding and switched back - too fast, almost exiting out again.

 

_ I’m available most of the day Saturday, yes. What time works best for you? _

 

Minghao’s fingers went too quickly, and he hated the twitchiness in them, the tightness in his chest, the-

…

Well, the only thing that he actually liked at the moment was that Mingyu was nowhere to be found.

So he stopped, and pulled his hands back, and took a deep breath. This was fine. There was nothing to be worried about. He expected this, and he was going to absolutely  _ wow _ this guy, completely astound him, no matter how old he was or what he looked like. This was for him _ self _ , thank you very much, and he was going to make sure that he got what he needed. What he _ deserved _ .

 

_ Maybe late afternoon? I hate getting up early. >.< _

 

This reply, too, only took a minute to pop up.

 

_ I’m not a big fan of it, either. So 11 on Saturday? _

 

_ That sounds perfect!! ^^ Thank you, hyung~ I’ll see you then! _

 

Okay.

God.

Minghao had a date.

And, now that he thought about it, he couldn’t actually remember the last time he had gone on one. Not a proper one. His… last year of high school? Wait, did him and Jun awkwardly holding hands under the table at a barbecue restaurant because they both just wanted to try it out actually count?

…

Fuck, had he ever  _ been _ on a real date?

Whatever. Whatever, no, he was  _ not _ worrying about that, because he had at least flirted before, and he had experience, thank you very much, even if it wasn’t… necessarily in  _ dating _ , per say. That would make him seem cuter, right? More innocent, more charming?

So he had a date, so what?

He just wished that he knew who it was with.


End file.
